


Mirrors to Kiss

by duchessofwraiths



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:37:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchessofwraiths/pseuds/duchessofwraiths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>memories, memories</p><p>Dave and Rose move in together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirrors to Kiss

Funny, it was so much easier to play it cool around their friends now that they lived together. You would think he would be even more flustered anytime someone made a joke about it, but he could brush it off better than Rose could. It was a simple, stupid, brother-sister dynamic, something John wanted to write a sitcom pilot for. Rose had shot that idea down the second it was brought up, the day Dave brought his turntables into her living room and set them in front of the window. Dave stood there like an idiot, feeling like one, as Rose raised her eyebrows.

"Mr. Strider, what a surprise." She meant the turntables, but the real shock was that night. It wasn't how he expected it to happen. He expected a nightmare, a girl crawling into his bed in the middle of the night, but it was simpler than that, which somehow made it worse. They were both fully awake, and that was the horror.

Eating dinner.

He wanted to order pizza to celebrate their first night together (and he cringed at his own words and covered it up with a rhyme), but she didn't. She made pasta, and it was burnt and it was fucking terrible, but he crunched down the blackened bits and ate the raw like pretzels, marveling at the art it was to fuck up pasta. They ate quietly at the dinner table, forks stabbing at broken string. Dave asked about her book, and that was when she broke. 

It was Rose who broke first.

"My book?" she faltered. Her voice cracked ever so slightly.

"Yes, your book. You were going to pen another novel after the first one took off, remember? It's been a year. Writer's block?" He was trying to give her a way out, could she see that?

"I finished it."

"Did you now."

"It was about alcoholism." Rose took that moment to sip from a glass of wine, and Dave flashed back to the first time he saw her drunk.

"You're fine now though. You don't drink yourself into a stupor now."

"I know that, Dave."

"If it was about yours, did that mean you wrote about-"

"Kanaya." Rose still had the empty glass tipped to her lips, and black lipstick was smudging on the rim. It was a long table, and she was at the other end of it. She was far away.

"Do you want to talk about-"

"You know the answer to that question."

"Rose." 

"I only find things beautiful when they're sad, did you know that?" She was whispering, and he stood up and walked over to her. 

"Rose, you're awake. Rose, you're not dreaming." Dave recognized her voice when she was like this. She was remembering the horrorterrors.

"Lately, I'm so fucking beautiful. I was pretty when Kanaya was here, and now she's gone and I'm beautiful."

"You're not beautiful because you're broken." Dave caught her hands before they slipped under the table. She pinched herself all the time, and he hated the bruises it left, bruises from the abusive girlfriend she was to herself. 

"Brother..."

"Not brother, never brother. Dave."

"Dave, you can't be serious. Not after all this time. Maybe when we were twelve, before we knew what we were-"

"You are not my sister."

"Saying that doesn't make it true."

and he kissed her, and _it was never the same._

_shattering pasta_

_she was crying as she kissed him back, but he didn't stop_

_whispers_

_hot, swollen, hot,_

_both of them thinking of others_

 

_girls with claws and drinking blood_

_until all their clothes were off and they were mirrors_

_she looked just like him, and he was her_

_and it was some narcissistic tendency that led Rose to go "My, my, but we are some beautiful creatures." and she was laughing little, laughing small_

\--

_and was it bad that Dave agreed?_

"They're like twins, did you know that? I can't look at Dave without thinking of Rose, and I can't look at Rose without thinking of Dave." Jade complained, painting her nails in front of the television.

"Dave and I never hang out alone anymore." John agreed.

"When did they get so close?"

\--

_and was it bad that they never did anything alone ever again?_

"One of these days we'll have a sleepover." Jade kept telling them. "John and I will come over and we'll talk until three in the morning."

"I'm afraid that won't be happening." Rose said every time.

"We've never seen your apartment." John complained. "You two go everywhere together."

"How could I live my life without a theme song?" Rose laughed.

"I need her to rip my girlfriends to shreds." Dave would say.

John didn't understand. Dave didn't have any girlfriends to rip to shreds. Dave had never looked at a girl besides his sister ever since the trolls left. Surely they were missing a piece of the puzzle.

It never once crossed their minds that they were right.

\--

_and was it bad that they never slept?_

_Dave took up half the bed, and Rose sprawled on top of him. She liked to wake up in the night and kiss his skin, trace the muscles lying so close under one thin layer of pale skin. He never tanned, only freckled. She sent herself to sleep counting them._

_Dave would get inspired to write, but there was no paper, only Rose's skin. No pens, only his fingers._

_liked to whisper into crooked elbows, liked to trace pictures, liked to talk about girls that weren't real anymore._

_Cackles and canes, lipstick and fangs._

_\--_

_It was bad, it was so, so bad._

 


End file.
